Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2010  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


http://www.archive.org/details/proceedingsofconconf 


CONGBESS  OF  THE  CONFEDERATE  STATES; 


PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

DN    THE 

an:n'ounceme]n^t  of  the  death 

OF 

COL.  FRANCIS  S.  BAllTOW, 

OI'   TnE 

ARMY  OF  THE  CONFEDERATE  STATES, 

AND 

iMk  a  Delegate  in  the  Congress,  from  the  State  of  Georgia. 


PUBLISHED    BY    ORDER    OF    THE    CONGRESS, 
I^y   J.   J".  HOOIPER,    Secretary. 


RICHMOND  : 

EN  qui  HER      BOOK      AND      JOB      PRESS 
TYLER,  WISE  &  ALLEGUE. 

1S61. 


RESOLUTION  OF  THE  COINGIIESS. 


Congress,  July  25,  18C1. 

Mr.  Garland,  of  Arkansas,  offered  tlic  following  resolu- 
tion, which  was  unanimously  agreed  to  : 

Resolved,  That  the  Secretary  be,  and  he  is  hereby  directed 
to  have,  as  soon  as  possible,  the  proceedings  of  Congress  on 
the  announcement  of  the  death  of  the  Hon.  Francis  S.  Bar- 
tow, together  with  the  several  speeches  made  on  the  occasion, 
printed  in  pamphlet  form ;  and  that  he  cause  3,500  copies  of 
the  same  to  be  printed  for  the  u2e  of  Congress. 

A  true  copy  from  the  Journal. 

J;  J.  HOOPEtt, 

Secretary  of  the  Congress. 


P33683 


PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  COXCHIESS. 


Congress,  July  24,  18G1. 

[Extract  from  the  Journal.'] 

Mr.  T.  R.  R.  Cobb,  of  Georgia,  oflcrcd  the  following  reso- 
lutions, announcing  the  death  of  lion.  Fkancis  .S.  13ART0^v,  a 
delegate  from  the  State  of  Georgia,  and  moved  their  adoption  : 

Jicsoleed,  That  Congress  has  heard  with  unfeigned  sorrow 
of  the  death  of  the  lion.  Francis  S.  13artow,  one  of  the  dele- 
gates from  the  State  of  Georgia;  that  the  natural  exultation 
for  a  glorious  victory  achieved  by  our  arms,  is  checked  by  the 
heavy  loss  sustained  by  the  Confederacy,  in  the  death  of  one 
of  her  most  efticient  counsellors;  and  that,  as  his  colleagues, 
we  feel  a  peculiar  loss  to  ourselves,  in  one  who  had  won  our 
esteem,  and  gained  much  of  our  affection. 

lUaolccil,  That  with  pleasure  we  record  our  admiration  of 
his  heroic  defence,  on  the  field  of  battle,  of  the  action  of  Con- 
gress, in  which  he  participated  so  largely,  and  find  some  con- 
solation for  his  death  in  the  conviction  that  his  noble  self- 
-acrificc  will  serve  to  establish  the  work  which  he  so  boldly 
aided  to  begin. 

Ilesolced,  That  we  appreciate  the  loss  which  Georgia,  his 
native  State,  has  sustained  in  the  death  of  one  of  her  noblest 
sons;  and  that  we  tender  to  the  bereaved  family  the  sympathy 
of  hearts,  to  some  extent,  stricken  by  the  same  blow  which 
has  crushed  their  own. 

JiC.solrcfJ,  That  a  copy  of  these  resolutions  be  communica- 
ted to  the  family  of  the  deceased. 

Itesoli-ed^  'J'hat  in  testimony  of  our  respect  for  his  memory 
the  Congress  do  now  adjourn. 

Messrs.  IIjll,  of  Georgia;  Mason,  of  Virginia;  and  Cues- 
nut,  of  South  Carolina,  having  seconded  the  motion  of  Mr. 
CoRB,  the  Cliair,  upon  taking  the  vote,  declared  the  resolutions 
unanimously  adopted,  and  Congress  adjourned  until  12  o'clock 
to-morrow. 

A  true  copy  from  the  Journal. 

J.  J.  HOOPER, 
Secretary  of  the  Conyress. 


REMARKS  OF  MR.  T.  R.  R.  COBB, 


OF    GEORGIA. 


Mr.  T.  R.  R.  Cobb — Mr.  Fresidmt :  I  rise,  Sir,  to  an- 
nounce a  fact  too  well  known  to  this  Congress,  Avhich 
saddens  tlie  f\ices  of  many  convened  here,  and  which  is 
deeply  felt  by  all.  It  is  that  the  mortal  remains  of  our 
late  colleague,  the  Hon.  Francis  S.  Bartow,  now  lie  in 
the  other  end  of  this  Capitol,  temporarily  made  a  charnel 
house  for  the  illustrious  dead. 

Mr.  President,  I  confess  it  is  one  of  the  saddest  duties 
I  was  ever  called  upon  to  perform.  I  confess,  moreover, 
my  incompetency  to  discharge  it.  To  indulge  in  the  for- 
mal generalities  usual  upon  such  occasions,  would  illy 
comport  with  your  feelings  or  with  mine.  To  yield  to  the 
outgushing  of  my  own  heart  would  perhaps  be  a  scene 
as  inappropriate  to  the  occasion ;  for.  Sir,  he  was  my 
friend — in  every  sense  of  the  word  my  friend.  I  believe 
I  can  say  to-day  that  as  Jonathan  loved  David,  so  loved 
lie  me.  You  all  knew  and  you  respected  him  ;  you.  Sir, 
knew  him  intimately,  long,  and  loved  him.  I  knew  him 
1)0tter  than  you  did,  and  hence  I  loved  him  more. 

Pardon  me  the  relation  of  a  little  incident  that  trans- 
pired but  a  day  or  two  before  we  left  Montgomery,  and 

P33683- 


0 

parted  for  the  last  time.  It  will  illustrate,  perhaps,  better 
than  any  words  I  can  speak,  the  intimacy  of  the  relation- 
ship that  existed  between  us.  Sitting  by  my  side  all  the 
while  during  the  session  of  that  Congress,  and  never  dif- 
fering with  him  upon  any  important  questions,  occupying, 
as  he  'did,  the  important  position  of  Chairman  of  the  Com- 
mittee on  Military  Affairs,  perhaps  the  most  important 
position  of  any  connected  with  our  Congress,  bringing 
before  us  many  measures  for  our  adoption,  which  !  al- 
ways voted  for  with  confidence,  and  with  all  the  feeble 
powers  I  had,  aided  him  in  carrying  through.  It  so  hap- 
pened, hoAvever,  that  upon  one  single  point  I  differed  with 
him  and  his  committee.  Afterwards,  as  we  left  the  Capi- 
tol and  passed  to  our  rooms,  jestingly  I  made  a  remark 
to  him.  Instantly  I  perceived  that  it  had  wounded  him, 
and  as  instantly  I  with  the  frankness  of  a  friend,  begged 
he  would  never  remember  it.  I  supposed  it  had  passed 
from  his  mind,  but  late  in  the  evening,  at  a  little  social 
circle  when  we  had  gathered  together,  he  reminded  me 
of  the  fact  that  during  that  day,  for  the  first  time  in 
our  lives,  I  had  wounded  his  feelings.  Still  again  I 
tried  to  remove  the  impression,  and  assure  him  of  my 
unwavering  friendship.  We  retired  to  bed,  but  sleep 
would  not  come  to  my  eyes,  for  my  friend  was  Avounded. 
Silently  and  in  the  small  hours  of  morning,  I  passed 
from  my  own  room  to  his.  Quietly  opening  the  door, 
I  called  his  name,  and  found  that  he,  too,  had  been 
sleepless.  Without  a  word  of  explanation  I  went  in 
the  darkness  to  his  bedside,  and  leaned  over  him.     He 


locked  me  in  liis  embrace,  and,  shall  I  say  it  I  wc  wept 
■without  a  word;  and  I  retired.  Such,  Sir,  was  our 
friendship ;  such  my  loss. 

My  friend,  Mr.  President,  was  born  on  the  Gth  Sep- 
tember, ISIG,  and  consequently  would  have  been  forty- 
live  years  old  ou  his  approaching  birth  day.  A  native 
of  Georgia,  and  educated  in  his  native  State,  he  after- 
wards graduated  at  tha  University  of  our  State  with  the 
highest  honors  that  that  University  can  grant.  Imme- 
diately thereafter  he  proceeded  to  the  study  and  prac- 
tice of  the  law  in  his  native  city,  and  that  profession 
he  prosecuted  unremittingly  down  to  the  time  of  his 
connection  with  this  Congress.  lie  was  seldom  en- 
gaged in  political  life.  Twice,  I  believe,  his  party 
almost  forced  him  into  the  legislative  halls  of  our  own 
State.  Once  I  know  he  went  cheerfully,  because  agit}at 
public  interest  upon  vrhich  is  based  much  of  the  pros- 
perity of  Georgia,  not  only  flagged,  but  was  abandoned 
by  its  friends.  A  great  effort  was  necessary  to  bo 
made,  in  order  once  more  to  push  it  on  to  comple- 
tion. With  a  generosity  like  him,  with  an  earnestnes.^ 
and  zeal  all  his  own,  he  wen-t  into  the  halls  of  our  Legis- 
lature, and  by,  I  might  say,  almost  his  unaided  efforts, 
he  once  more  brought  the  energies  of  our  State  to  thi; 
completion  of  the  road  upon  which  so  much  of  her  pros- 
perity is  now  based.  With  these  exceptions  he  never 
engaged  in  political  life.  His  party  associations  were 
always  with  that  party  whose  distinguished  leader,  I  see, 
is  commemorated  by  a  statue  in  these  irrounds,  and  a  fit 


8 

follower  was  he  of  a  noble  leader,  a  high  representative 
of  a  noble  party.  This  I  can  say,  because  I  never  be- 
longed to  it. 

With  the  exceptions  I  mention,  he  never  was  con- 
nected with  political  life,  until  the  commotion,  which  the 
coming  storm  produced  in  the  political  atmosphere,  con- 
vinced him  that  a  great  revolution  was  at  hand.  The 
cloud,  though  no  larger  than  a  man's  hand,  and  the  light- 
ning, though  it  was  but  the  sheet  lightning  of  the  North, 
convinced  him  that  the  storm  was  coming,  and  that  it  had 
to  be  resisted,  or  his  State  would  be  subjugated  and  de- 
graded. With  a  boldness  like  himself,  with  an  earnestness 
which  characterized  all  of  his  conduct  through  life,  he 
placed  himself  instantly  in  the  very  vanguard,  and  he  re- 
mained there  until  he  died.  Becoming  a  member  of  the 
Convention  of  our  State,  he  was  selected  as  the  most  ap- 
propriate chairman  of  our  most  important  committee — the 
Committee  on  the  Military.  When  that  Convention  looked 
around  for  the  purpose  of  selecting  a  proper  delegate  to 
be  sent  to  this  Congress,  he  was  unanimously  chosen. 
Afterwards  his  history  is  known  to  you.  Many  of  you 
well  remember  when  the  representatives  of  but  six  States 
met  together  in  the  capital  of  a  distant  sister  State — 
many  of  you  well  remember  how,  even  in  that  band  of 
undivided  brothers,  there  necessarily  arose  some  diffe- 
rence of  opinion  as  to  what  should  be  done  to  meet  the 
rapid  march  of  mighty  events,  and  you  all  must  re- 
member how  boldly  he  stood  up  for  instant,  immediate 
action. 


I  will  not  trespass  upon  your  time  by  rehearsing  what  is 
familiar  to  you  all.  You  know  what  his  life  was  in  our 
midst.  You  know  how  undaunted  and  bold  he  was  when 
the  time  came  for  him  to  act ;  how  modest  and  retiring  un- 
der all  other  circumstances.  You  know  how  important  the 
position  to  which  he  was  assigned.  You  know  how  well  he 
discharged  the  duties  of  that  position.  These  are  his- 
torical facts.  It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  enlarge  upon 
them. 

Mr.  President,  I  would  not  do  his  memory  the  injus- 
tice of  attempting  to  portray  his  character  and  to  reveal 
to  you  the  estimable  virtues  of  his  head  and  heart.  I 
would  say,  however,  sir,  that  his  talents  were  not  only  of 
the  highest  order,  but  they  were  of  that  high  order  that 
could  not  descend  to  small  things.  Details  never 
could  be  attended  to  by  him.  Great  thoughts  he  grasped 
as  Jove  grasped  the  thunderbolt.  The  consequence  was 
that  as  a  lawyer,  in  his  argument,  he  took  broad  views, 
despising  petty  quibbles  and  even  the  necessary  re- 
searches of  Black  Letter  Law.  As  a  politician,  or 
rather  I  should  say  as  a  statesman,  you  know  well  that 
these  same  characteristics  were  united  in  him.  His 
heart.  Sir,  was  as  great,  and  cast  in  a  mould  as  gi- 
gantic as  his  mind  ;  hence  a  mean  motive  never  entered 
his  heart;  hence  a  sordid  interest  was  ever  spurned 
with  disgust.  His  manners  were  to  strangers  rather 
•cold  and  distant  ;^o  acquaintances  polite,  but  yet  cordial. 
In  the  secrecy  of  private  life  he  was  as  tender  as  a  child, 
and  as  demonstrative  as  an  affectionate  woman.     As  a 


10 

son,  a  T\'idowed  mother  weeps  to-day  over  the  loss  of 
the  pride  of  her  heart.  Sisters  weep  to-day  over  a 
brother  that  was  not  only  kind,  but  was  tender  in  his 
affections  towards  them  and  towards  their  children. 
Need  I  speak  of  a  wife.  Her  devoted  affections  caused 
her  to  follovf  him  as  the  beloved  disciple  followed  the 
Master,  until  she  could  almost  v/itness  his  crucifixion ; 
this  is  evidence  of  the  affection  which  vfould  draw  forth 
such  heroism  as  he  has  displayed. 

Mr.  President,  in  one  other  relation  of  life  I  feel  I 
ought  to  refer  to  my  friend.  It  is  as  a  master.  He  has 
poured  out  his  life  blood  defending  the  institution  which 
he  believed  to  be  sanctioned  by  God.  How  dv^elt  he  and 
how  acted  he  in  his  position  ?  An  incident  or  two  will 
illustrate  this  better  than  many  words  can  do.  A  faith- 
ful body  servant — -^'  Jimmy"  his  name — attended  him 
from  his  boyhood,  when  he  was  his  playmate,  even  down 
to  the  moment  he  left  his  home.  He  was  with  him  on 
the  field  of  battle,  and  now  follows  his  bier.  A  few 
years  ago  when  the  terrible  scourge,  the  yellow  fever, 
visited  the  seaboard  of  my  native  State,  my  friend,  along 
with  others,  was  stricken  down  by  the  pestilence.  Al- 
though there  were  many  nurses,  yet  there  were  many 
who  could  not  be  attended  to  professionally.  My  friend 
relied  upon  his  faithful  servant.  Faithful  he  was  to 
him,  and  by  his  bedside  he  sat  until  he  was  convalescent. 
When  he  arose  from  that  bed  it  was  m^^ely  to  exchange 
places  with  the  faithful  watcher.  "  Jimmy  "  was  stricken 
down  also,  and  my  friend  bathed  his  temple,  and  held  his 


II 


hand,  and  administered  to  his  comfort,  even  as  the  faith- 
ful servant  had  administered  to  himself. 

A  few  Tvceks  ago,  Mr.  President,  passing  through  the 
city  of  Savannah,  and  making  his  house  my  home,  I  no- 
ticed sitting  in  his  garden  several  old  decrepid  slaves. 
I  dared  not  ask  him  "  Why  they  were  there  ?"  but  upon 
inquiry  I  found  that  he  had  made  the  basement  of  his 
house,  as  it  were,  an  almshouse  for  the  decrepid  slaves  of 
his  deceased  father.  They  were  valueless,  and  there- 
fore must  be  taken  care  of  by  some  one,  and  thus  my 
friend  took  them  all  under  his  own  watchful  care  and  pro- 
tection. This  is  commentary,  Mr.  President,  upon  the 
abuse  heaped  upon  us  by  our  enemies. 

One  reference  to  his  military  career — his  connection 
with  this  war — and  I  am  done.  Having  devised  and  in- 
augurated many  of  the  measures  as  Chairman  of  the 
Military  Committee,  my  friend  was  deeply  impressed 
with  the  conviction  that  it  was  his  duty  to  take  his  sword 
in  his  hand,  and  go  to  execi^ite  what  he  had  thus  devised. 
He  communicated  to  myself  and  to  others  at  Montgomery 
this  intention,  and  his  company — a  volunteer  company 
in  the  city  of  Savannah — rlearning  that  such  was  his  feel- 
ing, urged  that  they  might  be  tendered  along  with  his 
own  service,  and  that  they  might  thus  go  to  the  battle 
field  together.  They  were  thus  tendered;  they  were 
thus  accepted.  Before  he  reached  this  city  his  merits 
had  already  pointed  him  where  the  Executive  authority 
of  this  Confederacy  soon  placed  him — at  the  head  of  n 


12 

regiment.  Subsequently  a  brigade  was  placed  under  his 
command. 

When  he  determined  thus  to  take  his  life  in  his  hand, 
solemn  thoughts  passed  through  his  mind,  and  coming 
events,  casting,  as  it  were,  a  shadow  before  the  sight  of 
my  friend,  premonished  him  that  he  would  never  return 
to  his  home.  This  he  communicated  to  several,  as  you 
and  others  around  me  know  to  be  true.  He  communi- 
cated it  also  to  his  wife,  as  she  has  told  me.  This  con- 
viction became  very  strong  upon  him,  but  with  a  bravery 
heroic  in  itself,  and  heroic  in  the  manner  in  which  it 
executed  its  purpose,  he  marched  straight  forward  to 
the  death  that  he  believed  certainly  awaited  him.  It  was 
not  a  death  that  he  feared,  rather  a  death  that  he  coveted. 
ITis  wife  has  communicated  to  me  the  fact  that  several 
times  he  told  her  his  desire  was  to  die  on  the  battle  field, 
defending  the  liberties  of  his  country. 

Of  the  manner  of  his  death,  Mr.  President,  I  can 
speak  only  from  rumor,  but  I  have  taken  pains  to  in- 
quire from  those  who  were  nearest  to  him,  on  that  memo- 
rable occasion,  and,  therefore,  I  may  speak  with  accu- 
racy. During  the  day  his  own  command  had  suffered 
much.  Towards  noon  it  became  necessary,  as  I  under- 
rstand,  for  the  left  wing  of  our  army,  to  keep  from  being 
flanked  by  the  enemy,  to  fall  back  further  and  further 
towards  its  original  position  occupied  in  the  morning. 
About  this  time — the  exact  hour  I  cannot  tell — my 
friend  approached  Beauregard — the  general  command- 
ing— and    said :     "  What    shall    now   be   done.      Tell 


1$ 

me,  and  if  human  effort  can  avail,  I  will  do  it."  TliC 
reply  was  :  "  That  battery  should  be  silenced."  Seizing 
the  standard  of  his  own  regiment,  and  calling  the  rem- 
nants  of  his  command  to  rally  and  follow  him,  he  led  the 
van  in  the  charge  of  battle.  Very  early  a  ball 
wounded  him  slightly,  an<l  killed  his  horse  under  him. 
Still  grasping  the  standard,  and  rising  again,  he  mount- 
ed another  horse,  and  waving  his  cap  around  his 
head,  he  cheered  his  hojs  to  come  on.  They  followed. 
The  next  wound  was  from  a  ball  that  entered  his  heart. 
He  spoke  afterwards  and  his  w^ords  will  ever  be  memo- 
rable. To  the  few  of  his  brave  boys  that  gathered 
around  him  he  said  :  "  They  have  killed  me,  but  never  give 
up  the  field  P^  That  last  command  was  gallantly  obeyed, 
and  his  boys  silenced  the  battery  of  vdiich  he  died  in  the 
charge. 

Mr.  President,  in  afew^  days  or  weeks  I  expect  to  fol- 
low the  footsteps  of  my  friend  to  the  field  of  battle,  and 
I  confess  to  you.  Sir,  that  my  natural  heart  prompted  me 
to  desire  that  upon  the  first  battle  field  I  might  meet  and 
recognize  his  slayer,  for  I  have  felt  that  Avith  the  blood- 
stained eye  of  the  chourineur  and  the  nerved  arm  of 
the  avenger  of  death,  I  could  strike  him  to  the  dust  and 
almost  gloat  over  his  dying  agonies ;  but  a  voice  within 
me  says  to  all  such  feelings  avaunt !  The  words  of  Holy 
Writ  come  to  me — ''  Vengeance  is  mine" — aye,  and  I 
thank  God  for  the  promise — "  I  will  repay,  saith  the 
Lord."  Let  us  then.  Sir,  be  still  and  wait  on  the  Lord, 
*'  For  the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth.  "     To  human 


14 

knowledge,  my  friend  and  I  are  apart  forever,  but  I  thah^ 
God — yea,  I  would  praise  Him — that  to  both  of  us  he' 
has  given  a  faith  that  pierces  through  the  gloom  of  the 
grave,  and  enters  futurity  where  is  pictured  the  bright 
hope  of  a  glorious  meeting  in  an  unending  eternity,  and 
where,  clasped  again  in  our  friendly  embrace,  we  may 
bask  forever  in  the  sunshine  of  the  love  of  God.  With 
that  hope  may  I  live  ;  in  that  faith  may  I  die. 
Mr.  President  I  offer  the  following  resolutions  : 
[  The  resolutions  appear  in  the  extract  from  the  Jour- 
nal, on  the  fourth  page. — Secretary.'] 


REMARKS  OF  MR.  HILL, 


OF    GEORGIA, 


Mr.  Hill — Mr.  Fresident  :  In  rising  to  second  the 
adoption  of  the  resolutions  offered,  I  feel  unable  to  ex- 
press the  feelings  within  me,  or  to  give  full  utterance  to 
the  thoughts  that  rush  upon  me.  I  shall  not  attempt 
that  task.  I  confess  it  is  difficult  to  realize  transpiring 
events.  The  mind  staggers,  thoughts  break,  and,  but  for 
the  fires  of  patriotism  that  stimulate,  the  heart  would 
sicken. 

All  the  days  of  my  manhood,  Sir,  I  have  known  the 
character  and  fame  of  the  lamented  dead.  Previous  to 
November,  1851,  I  had  heard  of  him  as  one  of  the  most 
promising  young  men  of  our  State.  At  that  date  I  met 
him  for  the  first  time  as  a  member  of  the  General  Assem- 
bly of  the  State  of  Georgia,  both  of  us  having  been 
chosen  members  of  that  body,  by  the  overwhelming 
Union  sentiment  which  at  that  time  prevailed  in  that 
State  and  throughout  the  South.  We  became  most  in- 
timately, even  affectionately,  friendly.  From  that  time 
until  1860,  there  existed  entire  harmony,  both  in  our 
personal  relations  and  in  our  political  views  and  feelings. 
During  all  this  period,  neither  had  a  secret  from  the  other, 


16 

0 

and  it  was  thus  my  privilege  to  know  the  very  thoughts! 
and  emotions  of  my  friend. 

The  controlling  element  of  Col.  Bartow's  charactei** 
was  directness.  He  loved  straight  lines.  He  abhorred 
crooked  ones.  He  followed  straight  lines  Avith  an  un- 
deviating  firmness.  He  avoided  crooked  ones  with  an 
uncompromising  integrity.  As  a  consequence,  he  was 
always  frank,  candid  and  positive.  He  had  no  conceal- 
ments from  friends  or  foes.  He  was  affectionate  to  the 
one,  and  magnanimous  to  the  other.  He  was  confident 
in  his  own  views,  and  somewhat  impatient  of  opposition. 

These  same  features  of  his  private  character,  dis- 
tinguished equally  his  public  life.  In  politics  he  was 
intensely  Whig.  He  defended  the  principles  and  loved 
the  disciples  of  the  Vfhig  party.  After  the  disruption 
of  the  Whig  party,  he  acted  with  the  Americans.  His 
candor,  however,  never  allowed  him  to  cover  up  nor  to 
adopt  what  he  deemed  the  errors  of  his  own  party,  and, 
therefore,  while  adopting  and  defending  the  great  cardi- 
nal principles  of  the  American  party,  he  repudiated  its 
original  organization  and  ritual. 

But  during  the  period  mentioned,  and  during  all  his 
previous  life.  Col.  Bartow  was  devoted  to  another  politi- 
cal sentiment  far  more  intensely,  than  to  Whiggery,  or 
Americanism,  or  to  any  other  political  creed  or  feeling. 
The  American  Union  vras,  beyond  all  question,  the  great 
central  figure  in  the  group  of  his  political  idols.  His 
Unionism  was  far  more  absolute  and  unconditional  than 
my  own.     I  knew  well  his  opinions  in  1856 — that  great 


17 

canvass  in  which  the  List  struggle  for  the  old  Union  was 
fought  and  lost.  He  then  regarded  the  Republican  party 
as  temporary.  He  considered  it  as  having  been  hurried 
into  existence  by  the  passions  of  the  hour,  and  that  an 
early  returning  reason  and  sense  of  justice  at  the  North, 
would  soon  destro}"  it,  and  therefore,  the  existence  of 
that  party  in  that  day,  did  not  weaken  his  devotion  to 
the  Union. 

But  why  did  our  friend  thus  love  and  defend  the 
Union  ?  Because,  in  his  opinion,  liberty  and  Union,  if 
not  one,  were  at  least  inseparable.  He  believed  the  dis- 
solution of  the  Union  vrould  prove  to  be  the  grave  of 
constitutional  free  govcrnmcjit ;  and,  therefore,  on  all 
occasions,  before  all  audiences  and  against  all  odds,  he 
defended  that  Union,  and  labored  for  its  perpetuation. 

Yet,  Sir,  it  is  true  as  stated  by  my  colleague,  (Mr. 
C.-BB,)  that  Col.  Bartow,  in  18G0,  became  an  earnest  and 
active  secessionist — perhaps  as  much  so  as  any  one  in  the 
State  of  Georgia.  It  would  not  be  inappropriate  to  this 
solemn  occasion,  to  allude  to  the  reasons  for  this  great 
change.  The}^  furnish  the  real  philosophy  of  this  revo- 
lution, and  especially  of  the  rapid  progress  of  the  revo- 
lution during  the  last  six  months. 

Since  1856,  Col.  Bartow  had  watched  with  much  anx- 
iety the  progress  of  fanaticism  in  the  Northern  States, 
He  saw  it  was  a  progress.  The  Republican  party  had 
not  passed  away  with  the  irritating  cause  which  had  beea 
made  the  occasion  and  the  excuse  for  its  organization. 
That  party  had  not  weakened,  but  strengthened — had  not 
grown  less,  but  more  insolent — in  four  years.   Encroach- 


16 

inents  had  not  only  multiplied  in  number,  but  had  be- 
come more  alarming  and  aggravating  in  their  character. 
These  encroachments  included  reckless  and  defiant  vio- 
lation of  the  constitution  and  laws,  not  simply  by  indi- 
vidual fanatics  and  local  mobs,  but  by  States,  in  all  the 
forms  of  legislative  enactments,  executive  sanctions, 
and  judicial  administration.  The  stream  of  fanaticism 
thus  swelled  and  maddened  as  it  swelled,  and  the  Union- 
loving  Bartow  lost  hope  of  its  arrest.  I  knew  well  the 
emotions  which  shook  his  noble  frame,  as  fact  after  fact 
gradually  convinced  his  mind  of  this  truth.  Finally,  he 
became  fully  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  the  "  irre- 
pressible conflict"  vvas  not  simply  a  theory  to  be  dis- 
cussed, but  a  programme  to  be  acted;  that  the  Union 
had  been  perverted,  and  vfas  to  be  used  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  equal  government ;  that  constitutional  restraints 
had  given  place  to  unlicensed  fanaticism,  and  if  liberty 
w^ould  live,  it  must  flee  from  such  an  embrace.  The  final 
end  of  all  this  he  believed  would  be  the  subjugation  of 
the  South,  by  diplomacy  and  through  the  forms  of  law 
if  possible,  but  by  force— by  arms  if  necessary. 

From  all  these  evils  my  friend  believed  there  v;as  no 
escape  except  by  secession,  and  that  no  plan  of  seces- 
sion would  be  successful  except  by  immediate  separate 
State  action.  Having  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  he,  in 
a  twinkling,  threw  away  all  the  Union  armor,  in  the  use 
of  which  he  had  become  an  honored  warrior,  and  with 
all  the  ardor,  energy  and  directness  of  his  nature, 
labored  for  the  destruction  of  that  Union. 

Sir,  what  my  friend  thus  saw  in  its  undeveloped  pro- 


19 

portions,  we  now  see,  and  posterity  must  more  distinctly 
see,  in  all  its  developed  hideousness  and  measureless 
criminality.  "Whatever  may  liave  been  the  original  in- 
tent of  the  Republican  party  of  the  North — by  what- 
ever remedies  at  an  earlier  day  the  evils  of  this  day 
might,  by  possibility,  have  been  averted,  all  must  see 
that  our  enemies  now  have  but  one  purpose,  and  that 
purpose,  is  our  subjugation ;  and  they  propose  but  one 
plan  by  which  to  accomplish  that  purpose,  and  that  plan 
is  by  armed  invasion  !  And  whether  we  look  to  the 
motive,  the  means  or  the  end  of  this  invasion,  history 
cannot  furnish  its  parallel. 

The  Picts  and  Scots  invaded  the  Britons;  but  they 
couhl  plead  in  extenuation  that  the  Britons  had  sub- 
mitted to  masters  before.  The  Saxons,  by  invitation, 
drove  back  the  invaders  of  the  Britons,  and  then  them- 
selves subdued  their  friends  to  their  own  rule ;  but  they 
could  offer  in  excuse  that  their  friends  had  shown  an 
incapacity  to  take  care  of  themselves,  an<l  it  was  l>etter 
to  be  governed  by  benefactors  than  by  enemies.  The 
Vandals  invaded  and  crushed  the  Romans.  But  Rome 
herself  had  always  been  predatory,  and  lier  OAvn  count- 
less examples  could  be  pleaded  in  vindication  of  her  own 
destruction.  And  neither  Pict,  nor  Saxon,  nor  Vandal 
had  ever  entered  into  constitutional  obligations  in  favor 
of  self-government,  nor  been  influenced  ])y  the  elevating 
teachings  of  a  christian  civilization. 

More  ruthless  than  the  Pict,  more  faithless  than  the 
Saxon,  more  furious  than  the  Vandal  and  more  savage 


than  all,  these  Northern  fanatics  invade  our  soil  and 
would  desolate  our  land.  They  first  invaded  and  laid 
waste  their  own  consciences,  and  thus  made  reckless  and 
desperate,  they  seek  to  destroy  those  Avho,  for  peace  and 
for  conscience  sake,  abandoned  them.  Over  their  own 
Tiolated  laws,  prostrate  constitution,  trampled  oaths  and 
ruined  interests ;  in  the  desecrated  name  of  the  integrity 
of  free  government;  and  by  the  blasphemed  sanctions  of 
a  holy  religion  ;  they  destroy  our  property,  murder  our 
citizens,  and  would  enslave  us  as  a  people. 

But,  Sir,  by  the  arms  of  our  brave  and  indignant  peo- 
ple, aided  by  an  insulted  Heaven,  they  have  been  driven 
back,  and  will  ever  be  driven  back.  In  the  work  of  de- 
fence, and  that  defence  for  liberty  and  honor,  we  must 
be  invincible.  Even  now,  the  shout  of  our  deliverance 
carries  panic  through  the  windows  of  the  Usurper's 
palace,  and  the  smoke  of  our  victory  rides  on  the  atmos- 
phere of  his  capital.  Like  their  prototypes,  the  fallen 
angels,  these  people  of  the  North  have  lost  forever  their 
union  with  the  South — to  them  always  a  temporal  heaven 
— for  no  other  reason  than  that  their  bigoted  ambition 
and  pestiferous  meddlesomeness,  destroyed  all  peace  and 
confidence  in  that  Union.  They  can  never  again  ascend 
those  ''  Chrystal  Battlements  !"  This  war — this  wicked 
•\Yar — waged  to  dethrone  us  from  that  e(j[uality  which  theii' 
fathers  and  our  fathers  so  nobly  won,  and  so  long  enjoyed 
together,  has  dug  a  pit  for  our  enemies  as  deep  from  the 
blessings  of  that  old  Union,  as  was  Pandemonium,  the 
**  palace  of  Satan  and  his  peers,"  from  the  sacred  glories 


21 

of  Heaven.  As  then,  so  now,  these  fallen  spirits  may 
exclaim : 

'•  What  though  the  field  be  lost  ? 
All  is  not  lost!         * 

The  study  of  revenge,  immortal  hate" 

are  left!  Sir,  if  this  be  their  resolve,  we  at  least 
have  the  blessed  reflection  that  there  is  for  them  "  an 
ignominy  and  shame  beneath  this  downfiill."  The  plan 
of  rcv(^igc  which  was  open  to  the  fallen  angels,  is  denied 
to  our  enemies  ;  for  before  this  failure  of  their  arms, 
they  had  given  us  so  many  proofs  of  their  perfidy  and 
deception,  that  there  are  none  in  all  our  dominions,  so 
innocent  or  unsuspecting,  as  to  be  again  beguiled  by 
them ! 

Mr.  President :  war  is  at  all  times  dreadful.  Vv'ith  a 
people  who  were  under  every  obligation  to  be  brethren, 
it  is  also  mortif3nng.  Between  States,  whose  boasted 
mission  was  to  illustrate  forever  the  blessings  of  free 
government,  it  is  humiliating  to  patriotism.  But,  Sir, 
it  has  not  been  of  our  seeking,  and  notwithstanding  there 
is  so  much  to  awaken  regrets  in  the  hearts  of  the  patriot, 
there  is  also  much  in  our  condition  to  cheer  us.  Our 
people  are  alive  to  this  crisis.  They  see  and  understand 
all  its  issues.  While  victory  brightens  their  hopes,  dis- 
aster but  stirs  their  indignation,  and  both  victory  and 
disaster  nerve  their  courage  and  increase  their  strength. 
As  the  follies  of  our  enemies  have  been  our  wisdom,  so 
this  bloodshed  upon  our  soil  will  be  our  life.  One  War- 
ren fell  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  his  blood  hallowed  the  cause 
of  liberty  and  fired  the  hearts  of  the  patriots  throughout 


23 

tliat  struira'le.  Sir,  five  liundred  Warrens  bled  on  the 
field  of  Manassas,  and  five  hundred  fold  will  their  blood 
hallow  our  cause  and  fix  the  high  resolve  of  our  people. 
The  fall  of  the  lamented  Bartow  will  cast  a  shadow 
across  every  door-waj,  and  wring  a  sigh  from  every 
heart  in  Georgia;  but  every  drop  of  his  gallant  blood 
will  spring  to  life  its  thousand  avengers,  and  call  even 
the  children  to  arms.  His  voice,  though  ^till,  will  reach 
ears  hitherto  unheeding,  and  his  arm  though  lifeless,  will 
unsheath  swords  hitherto  rusting  in  their  scabbards.  Sir, 
why  lament  we  our  colleague  ?  To  die  is  easy;  all  die  ; 
it  is  a  work  without  an  eifort.  The  brutes  die.  But  it 
is  not  thus  our  colleague  has  died.  Deatli  to  the  soldier 
of  freedom,  is  but  birth  to  the  hero.  He  is  but  renewed 
in  the  strength  of  multiplied  arms,  and  kept  alive  in  the 
liearts  of  the  generations  of  men  : 

And,  if  there  be  on  this  earthly  sphere 
A  boon,  an  offering,  Heaven  holds  dear, 

'Tis  the  last  libation  liberty  draws 

From  the  heart  that  bleeds  and  breaks  in  her  cause. 

Sir,  free  and  pure  as  the  waters  from  our  mountain 
springs,  will  these  libations  be  poured  from  hearts  all 
over  this  Confederacy.  Fragrant  and  sweet  as  the 
zephyrs  from  our  orange  groves,  will  the  incense  of 
these  offerings  rise  up  to  Heaven  ;  and  from  every  man- 
sion of  the  city,  every  hut  by  the  w^ayside,  and  every 
cottage  in  the  forest  glen,  will  these  boons  continue  to 
be  consecrated  to  liberty,  until  this  land  of  heroes  shall 
become  a  holy  place  and  a  jewel  ground  for  that  land  of 
Angels. 


REMARKS  OF  MR.  MASON, 


OF     VIRGINIA. 


Mr.  Mason  :  I  sliall  ever  esteem,  Mr.  President,  one 
of  the  most  fortunate  incidents  of  my  later  life,  tlie  oc- 
casion that  brought  me  to  the  acquaintance,  and  for  too 
brief  a  period,  to  intimate  association,  ^yith  the  gallant 
man,  whose  memory  ^\e  are  here  to  honor.  Yet,  brief 
as  that  acquaintance  Avas,  perhaps  what  I  have  to  say, 
may  shield  me  from  any  imputation  of  intrusion  on  this 
solemn  ceremonial. 

Colonel  Bartow  had  been  but  a  few  weeks  in  our 
State,  but,  from  his  first  arrival,  had  been  stationed  with 
his  regiment,  and  afterwards  with  his  brigade,  as  part 
of  General  Johnston's  command,  in  the  Valley  of  A^ir- 
ginia,  and  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  my  residence — 
and,  thus  he  became  at  my  house,  a  frequent  as  he  was 
always,  a  cherished  and  an  honored  guest.  To  know  him, 
was  to  love  him.  His  fame  as  a  soldier  and  a  general 
was  then  yet  to  be  made — it  is  written  now  imperisha- 
bly,  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  as  it  will  survive 
to  history  in  after  generations.  But  I  am  to  speak  of 
him  first  as  a  gentleman,  the  highest  title  known  to 


24 

social  position.  His  first  address,  opened  to  you  at 
once,  the  whole  man,  genial,  kind,  and  sympathetic — it 
assured  you,  personating  himself,  in  the  language  of  the 
classic.  Homo  sum;  Qiihil  humani,  alieiium  a  me  puto.  What- 
ever affected  another,  interested  him.  It  assured  you 
that  his  character  embraced  all  those  essentials  in  morals, 
which  make  the  sum  of  entire  prohity.  Sensibility^  was 
its  great  basis,  and  springing  from,  whilst  resting  on  that, 
were  truth,  honor,  and  fidelity. 

His  primary  and  great  self-imposed  duty  when  he  left 
his  home,  was  to  free  his  country  from  hostile  invasion  ; 
to  that  great  duty,  he  looked  with  a  single  eye.  To  the 
danger  in  his  path,  he  gave  not  a  thought.  Dear  as 
vrere  the  domestic  ties  v^hich  bound  him  to  life,  even 
they  were  sacrificed  in  fidelity  to  the  trust  his  country 
had  committed  to  him,  a  trust  that  was  evinced  by  suc- 
cessive and  rapid  promotion,  from  a  company  to  a  regi- 
ment— and  from  a  regiment  to  a  brigade — Captain, 
Colonel,  and  General,  in  little  more  than  a  single  month. 
As  a  general,  he  acknowledged  all  the  responsibilities  of 
his  command.  The  care  and  comfort  of  his  troops  in 
camp  v/ere  the  objects  of  his  sedulous  attention.  He 
never  left  them,  and  his  whole  intercourse  with  his  men, 
simple,  considerate  and  kind,  made  them  to  him,  a  band 
of  brothers.  They  had  a  common  work  to  achieve,  and 
he  was  to  lead  the  way. 

Of  his  devotion  to  that  work  (the  liberation  of  his 
country  from  the  indignity  of  an  invading  foe,)  he  gave 
the  most  signal  proof. 


25 

Wliilst  in  camp,  and  before  the  advance  of  Patterson's 
column  into  Virginia,  but  whilst  it  yet  hovered  on  the 
border  in  Marjdand,,  watched  closely  by  Johnston's 
army,  I  said,  casually,  to  Colonel  Bartow,  ''  The  time 
is  approaching  when  your  duties  will  call  you  to 
meet  Congress  at  Richmond,  and  I  look  to  the  plea- 
sure of  traveling  there  with  you."  lie  replied,  <<  I 
don't  think  I  ^can  go,  my  duties  will  detain  me  here. " 
I  told  him  that  if  a  battle  was  fought  between  the  two 
armies,  it  certainly  was  not  then  imminent,  and  I 
thought  his  service  in  Congres^s,  and  especially  as  Chair- 
man of  tlie  Military  Committee,  would  be  even  more 
valuable  to  the  country  in  Congress,  than  in  the  field. 
After  a  pause,  and  with  a  beaming  eye,  he  said  :  "  No 
sir ;  I  shall  never  leave  this  army,  until  the  battle  is 
fought  and  won. "  And,  afterwards,  whilst  the  two 
armies  lay  in  front  of  each  other,  the  enemy  at  Mar- 
tinsburg,  and  Johnston  with  his  C(mimand  at  Bunker 
Hill,  only  seven  miles  apart — the  enemy  Ave  knew  num- 
bered some  twenty-two  thousand  men,  whilst  on  our 
s'-^de  Ave  could  not  present  against  them  half  that  num- 
ber, and  the  battle  hourly  expected.  His  headquar- 
ters under  a  tree  in  an  orchard,  and  his  shelter  and 
shade  from  a  burning  sun,  the  branches  of  that  tree, 
and  his  table  a  camp  chest — I  joined  him  at  dinner. 
Little  is,  of  course,  knoAvn  of  the  vieAvs  and  pur- 
poses of  a  general  in  command,  but  it  Avas  generally  un- 
derstood that  Johnston  Avas  then  to  give  the  enemv  bat- 
tle, should  he  invite  it.     In  conversation  on  the  chances 


26 

of  the  figlit,  I  said  to  Bartow,  '^  of  the  spirit  and 
courage  of  the  troops  I  have  no  doubt,  but  the  odds 
against  you  are  immense."  His  prompt  reply  was,  ^^  they 
can  never  whip  us.  We  shall  not  count  the  odds.  We 
may  be  exterminated,  but  never  conquered.  I  shall  go 
into  that  fight  with  a  determination  never  to  leave  the 
field  alive,  but  in  victory,  and  I  know  that  the  same 
spirit  animates  my  whole  command.  How,  then,  can 
they  whip  us  ?" 

Am  I  here  to  tell  you  how  gallant!}'  and  truthfully  he 
made  that  vow  good  on  the  bloody  plain  at  jNIanassa,  and 
how  nobly  the  troops  under  his  command  there  redeemed 
the  pledge  made  for  them  ?  The  "  battle  was  fought  and 
won, "  as  he  vowed  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  he  sealed  in 
death,  his  first  promise  in  the  field  of  war.  Will  you 
call  this  courage — bravery  ?  No,  no.  Bartow  never 
thought  of  the  perils  of  the  fight.  Bravery,  as  it  is 
termed,  may  be  nothing  more  than  nervous  insensibility. 
With  him  the  incentives  to  the  battle  field  were  of  a  far 
different  type.  The  stern  and  lofty  purpose  to  free  his 
country  from  the  invader ;  the  calm  judgment  of  reason 
paramount  on  its  throne,  overruling  all  other  sensations  ; 
resolution  and  will  combined  to  the  deed,  the  conse- 
quence to  take  care  of  itself.  There  is  the  column  of 
true  majesty  in  man.  Such  Avas  Bartow,  and  such  will 
impartial  history  record  him.  He  won  immortality  in 
Fame,  even  at  the  threshold  of  her  temple. 


REMARKS  OF  MR.  CHESXUT, 


OF    SOUTH    CAROLINA, 


Mr.  CiiESNUT — Mr.  President  :  The  darkness  which 
now  rests  on  the  heart  of  Georgia,  casts  a  gloom  over  all 
the  South.  The  sigh  she  utters  meets  responsive  sighs 
from  her  Confederates.  It  is  meet  that  the  voice  of  Ca- 
rolina should  mingle  in  the  lamentation  of  this  occasion  ; 
and  I  join  with  those  whose  feelings  prompt  them  to 
spontaneous  expressions  of  respect  for  the  character  of 
the  late  associate,  whose  loss  we  mourn. 

My  acquaintance  with  Colonel  Bartow  hegan  at  the 
first  assemblage  of  this  Congress,  when  it  met  to  form  a 
Provisional  Government  and  Permanent  Constitution. 
Within  a  brief  period  I  perceived  in  him  sucli  traits 
as  are  beautiful  and  attractive  in  human  character. 
His  manner  was  singularly  gentle  and  courteous,  while 
his  bearing  was  so  elevated  and  firm,  as  to  command  re- 
spect, confidence  and  attachment.  The  many  high  in- 
stincts and  impulses  of  his  nature  seemed  to  be  harmo- 
niously blended,  and  educated  into  principle. 


28 

On  the  adjournment  of  Congress  I  parted  with  him  at 
Montgomery.  I  saw  him  next,  when  on  Sunday  last  at 
8  o'clock,  he  went  forth  with  his  gallant  brigade  to  take 
position  in  the  field  of  battle.  Again  I  saw  him  w4ien 
the  battle  raged  in  all  its  fury.  He  rode  up  to  the  com- 
manding General,  Beauregard,  and  with  eye  lighted,  and 
form  dilated,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  that  loyalty  which 
distinguishes  the  true  patriot,  gentleman  and  soldier,, 
asked  ''  What  shall  I  do — tell  me,  and  if  in  the  powder  of 
man,  I  Avill  do  it."  ''  Take  that  position,"  said  the  Gene- 
ral, pointing  to  the  left  and  forward.  That  position  Col. 
Bartow  took.  Soon  he  was  wounded,  and  soon  fell  his 
horse.  Finding  it  necessary  to  advance  again,  Avliile  on 
foot,  he  grasped  his  colors  and  moved  forward  amidst  the 
leaden  hail.  Tlicn,  Sir,  to  his  noble  heart  came  the  fa- 
tal missive — severed  the  silver  chord  of  life,  and  left  us 
all  to  mourn.  Once  more  I  saw  him,  when  his  devoted 
comrades  bore  him  back  from  the  field  of  slaughter.  His 
bright  eye  was  then  closed  upon  all  the  scenes  of  earth, 
and  his  ear  deaf  to  the  shouts  of  victory  wdiich  so  soon 
filled  the  air  that  wrapped  his  insensate  form. 

Then  and  there  many  noble  spirits  took  their  flight 
Avith  his  to  other  spheres.  Then  and  there  mingled  the 
rich  blood  of  Southern  hearts  in  grand  libation  to  Liberty 
poured : 

oh,  blood  like  this, 

For  Liberty  shed,  so  holy  is, 

It  would  not  stain  the  purest  rill 

That  sparkles  among  the  bowers  of  bliss. 


29 


Among  that  noble  host,  no  purer,  braver  spirit  than 
his  winged  its  Tvay  to  heaven.  Although  our  hearts 
swell  with  grief,  and  our  tears  freely  flow,  the  influences 
of  his  life  and  the  inspirations  of  his  glorious  death,  in 
some  measure,  alleviate  the  sting  of  his  untimely  loss. 


